To absent friends

When Moira and I came to Dalry in 1973, we had hardly settled in when there was a loud knock at our imposing front door.  On opening it, I found a dapper gentleman who introduced himself immediately as Bill Gorman, our local councellor: he welcomed us to his town and…

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It’s in the genes

It is quite amazing that what you might think of as the family inheritance, either in terms of  buildings, bricks, pieces of furniture or skills and interests, seldom go to where you think they might have. I always thought that, having been an architect, a teacher and someone who has…

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